Big Hero 6: Project DAMOCLES
by WarrenJohnson54
Summary: It's been a year since the Big Hero 6 defeated Callaghan and life has been one adventure after another. But when a certain adrenaline addict skates headlong into a secret government project's crosshairs, everything will change. A ROTBTFD and Big Hero Six story
1. Chapter 1

Tadashi couldn't see anything through the noxious clouds of black, acrid smoke filling the convention hall, nothing except of the red glare of the fire eating through the walls and floor. He felt the structure groan beneath his feet. Soon the building would collapse.

"Professor Callaghan, cough, where are you?" he hacked as he breathed in the poisonous air. The tears from his watery eyes took away even more of his waning sight. He tore off his jacket and held it against his mouth in an effort to breathe better.

 _Where is he?_ he thought. _Where am I?_ He had lost his way the moment he left Hiro on the steps of the building. Hiro. He was probably worried sick about him. _Hiro, please, whatever you do, do not follow me in here._

Something clattered to his left and he stumbled towards it. He could see the remnants of the stage where just hours ago Hiro had revealed his microbots. He'd been so proud to see his little brother demonstrate his technical genius. And when Callaghan had given Hiro the acceptance letter, Tadashi felt as though he would burst. He couldn't imagine how Hiro must have felt.

He saw movement beside the stage. A person.

"Professor!" he called out. Callaghan turned to look at him, but his face was not one of relief. Gone was the smile that he always gave Tadashi in class or when they passed each other in halls. There was only a blank look of calmness, his mouth a straight line. On his head was Hiro's transmitter.

Tadashi froze and gaped. "Professor?"

"You shouldn't have come here Tadashi," Callaghan muttered. With a flourish if his hand, thousands upon thousands of microbots swarmed across the floor to surround him, encasing him in a circular shell.

"Professor, what are you doing?" Tadashi yelled. He bashed his hand against the wall of bots but they didn't lose their hold. Hiro built them too well.

A loud crack signaled the roof collapsing and Tadashi cried out in pain as a heavy beam pinned him to the ground, crushing his legs. The pain seared his brain and he choked on his screams. "Professor, please. Help me," he begged. But Callaghan's shell didn't crack.

 _Oh God, I'm gonna die._ Tadashi began to sob as the realization sunk in. "Hiro, I'm sorry," he blubbered as more debris fell from the ceiling and the flames grew larger. His organs were cooking in his own skin.

Suddenly, he thought he felt a hand on him.

Then everything turned bright.

…

The explosion had rocked the entire San Fransokyo campus; everyone felt the shockwave as the convention center erupted in a red fireball that shot into the sky.

It was morning before the fire crews had the blaze under control. The scene was past hectic. It was a madhouse. Rescue workers dug through the rubble looking for survivors. Reporters arrived in their news vans searching for a story, pressing against the police line like rabid dogs. Shaken students stumbled about, all of them in separate degrees of functionality varying from sobbing to catatonic. Hiro Hamada was part of the latter group.

He had been the closest to the explosion and had been immediately tended to by the paramedics when they had arrived. They had pronounced him concussed and severely burned and had rushed him to the hospital alongside his Aunt Cass. He now lay in a hospital bed, his aunt asleep in the chair beside him, watching the events unfold on the television.

"…a truly terrible sight here at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, where just hours ago, tragedy struck the annual Student Showcase." Vivienne Carter, lead reporter for SFN, gestured behind her to the destroyed convention center. "You can see behind me that rescue crews are still struggling to contain the fire." She stopped for a moment and listened to someone in her earpiece. "I am just getting a report at least two people were confirmed to have been in the convention center at the time it blew up; Professor of Robotics Robert Callaghan and his student Tadashi Hamada. It is unclear at this time if they are the only two who were in the building but I will say that it does not look good for either of them. I will continue to be here monitoring the situation and will bring you updates as they occur. Back to you Jim." The screen shattered when Hiro threw the remote at the TV with all the strength he had left.

"Ah!" his aunt awoke violently. "What's, what happened? Hiro?" Hiro didn't hear his aunt from behind his tears. She quickly enveloped him in a tight embrace and he cried into her shoulder, sobbing and cursing the world for taking his brother from him.

…

The fire was finally out and the crews were rooting about in wreckage, searching for the bodies of Professor Callaghan and Tadashi Hamada. Their tired eyes swept over the debris, their search becoming arduous, every passing minute growing less and less like hope and more like hopelessness. There was just too much destruction. They could dig for years and still not find the two men lost to catastrophe.

One young firemen lagged behind the others, tiredly swinging his axe through the stone and plaster. He had only just started at his station last week and already he was rooting around for dead bodies in a collapsed building. This was not what he had expected. He didn't feel like he was doing a good deed. All he could think of were the faces of the deceased's loved ones, tears staining their faces and veiled in black. His own father had died in a fire. It was the chief reason he had chosen the career he did.

Something rumbled under his feet. Suddenly he was very awake. The debris rolled and shifted, rising up and splitting apart. A jagged dome of black rock rose out from beneath the brick and mortar, shining in the early morning sun. He cautiously approached the mysterious stone, running his gloved hand along the glossy surface.

Suddenly the dome shattered and a hand shot out, grabbing his collar.

The fireman tried to cry out but the beast of a man who walked out of the obsidian dome quickly covered his mouth with his other hand. The remainder of the dome crumbled away, revealing two other men huddled beneath the crude shelter, one lying unconscious. The one who was awake idled up to big man.

"Put him down," he commanded. The big man did, dropping the fireman right on his ass. He tried to scoot away but the smaller man caught his face and gazed deep into his eyes.

"You didn't see anything," he crooned, his voice taking on a hypnotic tone. The fireman tried to look away but he couldn't. Something in his mind wouldn't let him. He had no control.

"I didn't see anything," he echoed.

"You will tell your friends that there is nothing here."

"I will tell my friends that there is nothing here."

"Good. Carry on." The man let go and fireman stumbled away after his team, his mind fuzzy. Like he was supposed to remember something.

…

"I wanted to punch him," the big man grumbled to his shrimp of a companion.

"You would have killed him," the smaller man chastised.

"No I wouldn't have."

"And how would he have explained that his face was all bruised? What, that he ran into a door? People would know something was up."

The big man looked disappointed. "Still though…"

"Stop complaining and pick up the kid. We have to get out of here." The big man nodded and tossed the limp body of the teenager over his shoulder. The smaller man dug around in his pocket and fished out an electronic earpiece, popping it into place.

"Eagle Eye, Eagle Eye come in, this is Whisper." Static crackled. "Eagle Eye, do you read me?"

"We read you Whisper," a voice on the other end crackled. "We were starting to get worried."

"Onyx and I have the package, but he's in bad shape. We're heading to the extraction point."

"Roger that Whisper, evac is on route to extraction point. Estimated time of arrival, ten minutes."

"Copy. Whisper out." The man pocketed the earpiece and checked his watch, awaiting his lumbering companion.

"So, what's so special about this kid anyway?" the big man—Onyx—asked as they picked their way across the debris.

Whisper shrugged. "Command didn't say. Just that he's a priority Alpha target and to extract him by any means necessary. Though I don't think this was part of anyone's plan," he said, gesturing to the destruction.

"Yeah," Onyx nodded. "I'm hungry."

Whisper sighed. "Me too buddy. Me too."

"Burritos?"

"Mission first. Then burritos."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, loyal readers. For those of you who read my Star Wars fanfiction, _Old Friends and New Alliances,_ then this apology is just a repeat. For those of you who don't, I wanted to apologize for how long it took to get this updated. I've just graduated from college, so now I actually have time to do more of my own writing.**

 **I will do my best to make the updates more frequent. So until next time, enjoy!**

* * *

One Year Later

 _This is gonna be a bad day,_ was the thought that was bouncing around in her head.

Cars and drivers alike cried out in protest at the morning traffic that choked downtown San Fransokyo. Monday mornings were always like this, people coming fresh off the weekend, drudging themselves back to prison of a cubicle before going home and repeating the entire process the next day and the day after that. Living life at a snail's pace, as slow as the Monday traffic.

Gogo Tomago didn't do slow. In anything she did, there was always a hint of hustle, a drive to finish before anyone else. She demonstrated it in her schoolwork, in her social life, even in the privacy of her apartment. It was always as if Gogo was trying to beat the cosmic stopwatch.

That was never truer than it was right now, because Gogo Tomago was late.

Her alarm had failed to bring her out of her cocoon of bedsheets. Normally Honey Lemon would wake her up if she overslept, but the quirky chemist had pulled an all nighter at the lab, leaving her speedster roommate alone in their apartment. When she had finally opened her eyes and looked at the blinking light of her alarm clock, she sprang out of bed and dressed at a speed that would have impressed Olympic sprinters, inhaled her breakfast and sprinted down the stairwell to her motorcycle.

The engine of the Kawasaki Ninja roared between her legs, begging to put the custom superchargers she had installed to use. It had been the first of many modifications, from the nitrous tanks to the glossy black and yellow paint job. The bike had been a gift from her parents, a combination of her birthday, graduation and acceptance into the Master's program at San Fransokyo Institute of Technology.

She, Wasabi and Honey had all graduated the spring semester following their adventure with the microbots and Callaghan, and all three of them were now working on their Masters while Hiro worked on his Undergrad. The kid was working through his degree at record speed; he'd have his Doctorate before he turned twenty at the rate he was going. Gogo couldn't believe that the kid was able to juggle his double life and still get the grades he did. He may even be smarter than Tadashi had been.

Gogo frowned behind her visor as memories of Tadashi were dredged up by her musings. She still missed him. They all did. He'd been the silent ringleader of their little family, the one who saw in them what the couldn't see in themselves. Fred may have given them their nicknames, but without Tadashi, their little breakfast club would have fallen apart on day one.

Maybe that was why Hiro meshed so well with them and filled the hole left behind in Tadashi's absence. The kid had so much of his big brother in him, his heart, his passion, his drive, and of course his gargantuan brain mass. But where Tadashi had been cautious, Hiro was brash; Tadashi was tempered, while Hiro was hot blooded. It's what made him a take charge leader. It also made for very amusing footage from Baymax's cameras whenever one of the young genius' plans comically failed.

A space opened in the traffic and Gogo went for it, gunning the engine and speeding through the congested vehicles. Many drivers sounded their horns and leaned their heads out their windows to rant at her for speeding past them. Their insults fell on deaf ears.

She took a hard left turn, barely beating the light, and grinned as she saw nearly no cars on the road ahead of her. The temptation proved too much and she opened the throttle, reaching eighty miles an hour in less than six seconds. Cars and buildings became a fleeting blur, the street a solid line of infinite black that begged her to ride and ride and never slow down. If nothing else went wrong, she might just make her first class.

The sound of sirens broke her racing bliss. She eased up on the throttle, but there were no lights flashing blue and red anywhere on the street. The wailing rang out from several city blocks away.

"No, don't get involved," she told herself as the light turned red and she slowed to a halt. "Let the cops handle it. You're already late."

The hammering crack of automatic weapons screamed above the noise of the city as three motorcycles sped through the intersection, the riders spraying bullets at the pack of cop cars pursuing them. The flying shards of tapered metal buried themselves in the vehicles with a succession of dull thuds.

"Damn it," Gogo huffed. With a snap of her bubblegum, she ignored the red light and sped after the caravan of police cruisers.

She flipped a switch and the motorcycle's custom gyroscopic correction programming activated, taking the controls from her as the autodrive program Hiro had created kept the bike steady. The handlebars moved of their own will as the street awareness software in the GPS navigated around the traffic, keeping pace with the police cruisers.

Her hands free, she struck the bracelet on her left wrist and was rewarded with the hiss of pressurized air as the titanium alloy of her backpack deconstructed and reformed around her. Armor plating crept up to lock onto her helmet and the world grew inky as the tint in her visor darkened, only to be replaced with the bright display screen of the neural interface in the headpiece. As her gauntlets closed around her arms, a pulse of energy coursed through the armor and her HUD flashed with a funny little emoji of a smiley face with a thumbs up. "Honey," she grumbled; only the chemist would have put that as the default icon. With a final

Gogo Tomago was gone, replaced by the hero Circuit.

The name wasn't her idea, but yet another contribution on Fred's part. Gogo didn't how Hiro had been able to condense the suit, but he had. It wasn't a complete suit, merely meant to conceal her identity and provide the necessary protection to her head and torso. She had a pair of boots that completed the uniform, housing her disc skates in the heel, but they were still at the foot of her bed, forgotten in her mad dash out the door.

With a twist of the accelerator, the bike reared up on its back tire for the briefest of moments before righting itself, the superchargers pouring the nitrous laced fuel into the engine. The cops cars didn't stand a chance. Circuit grinned beneath her visor as she saw the befuddled looks of the officers through the cruiser windows, giving a small salute to the lead car before hitting the turbos.

While the police cars proved no challenge to catch, the motorcycles were a different story. Whoever these guys were, they had some serious tech. Gogo's bike was one of the fastest in the world, and that was stock, before all the modifications; admittedly, not all of the changes were, strictly speaking, legal. Yet the Ninja was hard pressed to close the distance between Circuit and the trio of fugitives.

She squeezed her fingers into a fist, her thumb brushing against the sensor pad that released her right wrist disc. With precision that rivaled an Army sniper, Gogo slung the lightweight carbon fiber weapon at the closest of the riders, and it cracked against his helmet. Body limp like a rag doll, he tumbled from his bike and skidded along the asphalt, while his motorcycle continued to flip seven times before it crumpled against a parked car.

With a heartbeat registering on her HUD, Circuit paid the man no more mind, her disc returning to her arm as she kept after the two bikers still fleeing. The two of them sped through a red light, sending multiple cars careening into each other, creating a minefield of warped metal and shards of glass.

Faster than she could even hope to calculate, her HUD flashed a command: Slide. She obeyed without hesitation, just in time to avoid being clotheslined by a flipped sedan balancing on two other cars. Her helmet barely scraped along the undercarriage, leaving behind a streak of yellow paint. She grumbled as the smiley emoji flashed in front of her visor again.

Hurrying to right herself, she revved the accelerator to keep pace with the riders. The wail of the sirens grew fainter the further away from the crash they drove. They hadn't been much help anyway.

The riders turned onto the freeway, weaving in and out of the morning traffic rush. It became harder and harder to focus in on both of them at once. Her bike gave a jolt as she clipped the fender of a stopped car, causing her to curse out loud.

"Computer, find me a shortcut!" she ordered as she veered around a pickup truck crawling along. Soon her HUD lit up like a Christmas tree, showing a perfect holographic display of the bridge. Cars blinked a soft, digital blue, while the two bikers flashed a harsh red. Her own position was marked with a white arrow.

After the briefest of seconds, the computer highlighted a path...a path that ran off the edge of the overpass.

Gogo nearly grabbed the handbrake in disbelief, finally convinced the computer was trying to kill her. Then the map expanded, showing the underpass beneath her, nearly empty of any vehicles.

She wrenched the handlebars to the right, rearing up on her rear tire and drove the bike over the railing. Weightlessness overtook her, stretching out the seconds she spent falling into its own small eternity. She felt like she was flying.

The feeling vanished as her wheels crashed into the pavement, the bike's improved shocks taking the blow easily.

With her way mainly clear of automobiles, she opened up the throttle and surged ahead, closing the distance between herself and the two bikers. Up ahead, the two roads merged, the perfect opportunity for an ambush they couldn't possibly be expecting.

5 seconds till the roads merged… She allowed herself a grin of anticipation, ready to surprise the bikers

4 seconds… Her wrist disc snapped open, ready to fly.

3… The red blips grew closer on her display.

2…

1… She reared back to throw, only to be met by the barrel of automatic weapon.

The disc cut into the front tire, crumpling and warping the metal and rubber.

A spray of bullets flew from the rifle.

The black clad biker met the pavement hard as his motorcycle fell apart, rolling like a rag doll beside her for several moments before slowing down. Most of the bullets went wide, but she did feel several hard pings from where a handful of them struck her armor. Despite the pain, the armor did its job, Hiro's design holding up well against the military grade weapon.

Of course, there would be bruising later on, but she'd learned to live with bruises after a year of patrolling San Farnsokyo's streets and back alleys. She'd been shot at, stabbed, punched, kicked, one time blasted with a laser-that bank robber had gotten his hands some serious tech- and dropped from several stories up, several times. And each time the armor had held up and protected her.

Only one biker remained, and it was becoming clear that he was he one in charge. His bike was even more impressive than the other two, and the way he handled it spoke of a man who knew what he was doing. He wore a tinted visor, black riding leathers and a black duffel was thrown over his shoulder.

Pulling up alongside him, Gogo spared him a glance and he spared one for her. She couldn't see his eyes, as he couldn't see hers, but she could tell that something was different about him, something abnormal.

The biker put away his gun and curled his hand into a fist and a dark, smoky haze swam around his arm before he cast out his hand in front of him. A smoky, swirling vortex blinked into existence and swallowed him up, an instant before Gogo plowed into the inky blackness after him.

Cold was the first thing Gogo felt. Cold and dark and alone. The blackness was oppressive, suffocating and isolating. The sensation was fleeting though as a darkness fell away and she found herself spat out onto the road again amidst heavy traffic.

She immediately hit the brakes and skidded to a halt in the middle of the road. "What the hell was that?" she gasped with wide eyes. Some kind of tech stolen from Krei? It looked a bit like the portal device, and functioned similarly enough. Someone honked behind her and spurred her to move.

Up ahead, she could see the biker as he snaked between the heavily congested traffic that hadn't been there a second ago. "Computer, where are we?" she asked as she followed. Her HUD pulled up the map and Gogo saw her blip moving along 9th Street…

…nearly ten miles away from the overpass.

She had no time to marvel as the man tore open another portal, vanishing into it. The anomaly quickly began to shrink once he had disappeared. Gogo twisted the throttle and threaded the needle, barely making it, and she passed through the lonely chill of inky black again.

On the other side of the portal, the map informed her that they were now speeding through the art district on the opposite side of town. "This is gonna get really old, really fast," she grumbled.

Overhead, the steady thrum of helicopter blades announced the arrival of the SFN news chopper. In the year following the Yokai incident and their acceptance of their roles as the protectors of San Fransokyo, Channel 15 had followed them like a obsessive ex, eager for any story that featured the Big Hero 6. For Gogo, they were just an annoyance, getting in the way of the task at hand, and unlike some of the other members of the team-mainly Fred-she hated the limelight, always fleeing whenever the press arrived on the scene.

The biker opened another portal and they both hurried through, leaving the News chopper behind. Well, one problem solved.

Both of them crashing through the wall of orange and white barriers was Gogo's first clue that they had jumped to a construction site. Workers in hardhats, the steady pound of a jackhammer and piles of steel beams and bags of concrete were all additional indicators.

The black biker barreled through site, weaving between piles of building materials and heavy machinery. A clutch of orange-clad workers barely jumped out of the way, yelling curses and profanities as he sped past, Gogo directly behind.

The end of the site approaching, the biker readied his weapon and fired a burst of automatic fire into a towering pile of concrete sacks. The bullets tore through the thin packaging and a wave of slate grey powder spilled out onto the road, not even a second after the man in black sped past, avoiding the obstacle.

Gogo felt her bike seize beneath her, the wheels stuck in the cement before she or her HUD could think of anything.

Gravity fell away for moment, then it returned when she crashed into the ground.

The armor protected her as she rolled, taking the brunt of the impact, but their be yet another collection of bruises forming once she took the armor off. From her spot on the ground, Gogo wsaw the black biker flex his wrist and he tore open another portal. With a snap of her fingers, she activated her disc and flung it after him.

It caught him square in the back, and the strap to his duffle snapped in two. The bag tumbled to the ground, skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust.

The biker and bike tumbled into the swirling blackness, swallowed up before it blinked out and any trace of his existence vanished into nothingness.

"Okay, above my pay grade," she mumbled as she recalled her disc. Partially because of her current mood, and partially because her fields of expertise lay in magnetism and gear shifts, Gogo abandoned all hope of understanding how the man had done what he did to escape.

She quickly snatched the duffle bag from where it sat in the dust. Whatever was inside jingled and clinked together when she lifted it. She unzipped the bag, curious, and reached her hand in, coming out with what looked to be a vial of some kind, filled with an metallic substance.

It was crystalline in appearance, murky, green, and opaque, with a glossy sheen that sparkled through the glass tube. Nothing about it seemed dangerous or valuable. Her HUD picked up no traces of radiation or chemical unbalance, nor was it any type of precious metal used in jewelry. Why would you want this? What is it?

Her ringtone going off shook her from her thoughts, the chorus of some K-Pop group she didn't care about meaning it could only be one person. "What is it, Honey?"

 _"Hey, where are you?"_

"Um...I don't actually know. Something came up."

 _"What kind of something? Is it a bad something? Oh, is it a 'you know what' kind of something?"_

"Honey, why did you call me?" Gogo huffed.

 _"Oh yeah, you're late."_

Gogo's eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat and she pulled up the digital clock Hiro had built into her vambraces. The electric blue display flashed ten minutes past the hour. Professor Hoy would have started his lecture by now.

"Ughhhh," she groaned. "I'll be there." She ended the call and quickly righted her motorcycle, tearing out of the construction site before anyone had the chance to stop her, the duffel carefully balanced on the seat in front of her. "Computer, which way to school?" An arrow icon flashed to to the right and she sped into the turn.

"Just couldn't let it go," she grumbled as she wove through traffic, cursing her luck and the portal opening crystal thief who had now guaranteed her a talking to with Professor Hoy about her increasing tardiness.

 _I knew today was gonna be a bad day._

...

High above unsuspecting heads, peering from the rooftops, a lone observer watched as Circuit rocketed away from the scene, the glow of his red visor vibrant beneath his hood. He breathed heavily behind his metal mask, he eyes glued to Circuit until she vanished into the city.

"Eagle Eye, come in, this is Apex," he growled into his earpiece. "The thieves have been dealt with, but now we have a new problem."

 _"What kind of problem?"_ the person of the other side of the connection asked, their voice garbled with static.

"The hero kind. The Six just got themselves involved. They have the vials."

Silence dominated the comm channel for several moments. _"Apex, return to the Hub to await further orders. The Director will want to speak with you."_

"Copy. Apex out." Static crackled as the communication line cut out.

The masked man cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders before he leaned forward and let gravity take him.

Window after window rushed passed as he fell twenty stories, the pavement of the alley rapidly growing closer. Any normal man would splatter against the concrete, painting the alley in a vibrant smear of blood and brains.

Apex was far beyond normal.

He landed in a silent crouch, his long coat billowing around him. Claws scratched along the ground as he stood, retracting with a flick of his fingers. Pulling his hood down further over his face, shrouding his mask in the dark, he slunk onto the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets, and joined the pack of civilians that hurried along, blissfully unaware of the predator that walked amongst them.

As he passed by the construction site, he pressed the release on his mask and peeled it off his face, inhaling deeply. He could smell fresh concrete, smoke from the welders' torches, a general overlaying odor of men at work and…her. She had a distinctive scent, a mixture of sweat and leather and bubblegum, culminating in a concoction that was so distinct and unique from anyone else.

The faintest ghost of a smile spread across the man's face. Soon, it would be time to hunt.

* * *

 **Please review and let me know what you think. I'm currently light on editors, so any help is appreciated.**


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